


a living proof

by savemeaplate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith, Canon Compliant, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Gangbang, M/M, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Spitroasting, Voyeurism, cum-play, displays of Galra strength, essentially Keith gets fucked standing up, missing scene from when Keith fucked off with the Blades the first time, oooooh boy, self-lubricating assholes, technically, weird Galra loyalty tests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25869379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savemeaplate/pseuds/savemeaplate
Summary: Though Keith managed to activate his blade during the Trials, his mixed ancestry proves to be a point of friction for the Blades.Kolivan, Antok, and Regris help Keith thaw the hostility.
Relationships: Keith/Kolivan (Voltron), Keith/The Blade of Marmora
Comments: 13
Kudos: 436





	a living proof

**Author's Note:**

> Blade of Marmora gangbang for Keith whooo!!! this has been on my mind forever so this is purely self-indulgent. Consent is pretty dubious, though Keith gets into it towards the end.
> 
> i'm on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/guardameunplato)

The Blades move from base to base as their missions dictate.

It’s a transience that Keith is used to.

What Keith is _not_ used to is car-pooling in space shuttles with eleven of them every time they have to move. They’re truly just a few more jacked, growly Galra superfighters away from having to force everybody to tuck their swords between their knees. 

At first, Keith chalks it up to the cramped space of the shuttle.

They’re packed in like teeth in a piranha mouth, so he gives Antok the benefit of the doubt. They’re on their way to a post near the Giarus asteroid belt, from which they’ll launch a complicated disruption and information reconnaissance operation on the illegal quintessence trade route they’d learned about a few quintants ago. They’ll have to spend a bit longer at this post than they typically would otherwise, five quintants at least. 

Keith’s mostly focused on how sweet his new Marmora suit is, trying to figure out why it doesn’t feel like he’s stuck his body into a plastic bag in the dead of summer, especially since he’s been wearing it for several vargas now.

The shuttle takes a sharp turn, and Antok steadies himself with a hand against Keith’s thigh.

“Apologies, Keith.”

“No worries,” Keith tells him. 

It takes Antok a few seconds to pull back. His sharp yellow eyes, with deep black irises that remind Keith of fruit seeds (so unlike Kolivan’s or Regris’s or Vrek’s), look amused.

Antok gives his thigh a light squeeze.

Here’s the thing. There are a lot of stereotypes about Texas that Keith has had to fight tooth and nail to wrench from Lance. Like that people keep their guns next to their syrup at breakfast (combat knives are a different thing, and they’re Keith-specific). Or that everybody talks in quaint country aphorisms (which Keith definitely undermined when, after he and Team Voltron tracked a distress signal to a planet with gaseous rings that the inhabitants could harness parts of to use as protective shields, Keith accidentally muttered “well slap my ass like a Clydesdale at a derby” through the comms. Lance and Pidge have roasting ammunition for the rest of his life). Or that Keith grew up wrangling cattle under the hot Texas sun (something said by Hunk, of all people!).

But Keith has to admit he’s always been particularly fond of the rugged, scruffy cowboy type. Those buff dudes that look like they’ve just fallen out of an aftershave commercial with a heavy electric guitar in the background and a motorcycle you can be sure nobody on set actually knows how to ride. 

And Keith’s always liked partners who could whip him around like a frisbee, okay? No shame in that.

Antok leans away from Keith to talk to Vrek about something, and Keith stares at the ragged scar across the hard line of his jaw.

Once at the base, they spend much of their time in the briefing room. It’s super spacious, like the bridge on the Castle of Lions, and the huge hologram-projecting table at the center is big enough to seat that entire white family from Cheaper by the Dozen.

Which is why Keith finds it a bit weird?? that Regris is standing so close to him while Kolivan cycles through their plan. Their suits are membrane-thin, so when Regris’s arm brushes against Keith’s, Keith feels his heat. 

Keith’s conscious, too, of just how much smaller he is than the other Blades. Of course it was a _well, no shit_ thing for him at first, but ever since that moment with Antok on the shuttle he’s found himself cataloguing how he barely reaches their shoulders. How if he’s standing too close to Kolivan he has to crane his neck back to make eye contact (his poor pride doesn’t know what to do with that, because Keith is a warrior, he looks shit in the _eye_ goddammit... but there’s something at least a little undignified about having to tilt his head back like he’s in a mosh pit trying to get a glimpse of the artist on stage while someone knees him in the kidney).

Regris doesn’t move away the whole time, and of course Keith doesn’t move because why should he? He’s gonna win whatever this is. 

In the canteen, as Keith makes his way through the food line, as he walks to his table, as he walks to the goddamn trash, he can literally feel Kolivan’s eyes on him. And Kolivan doesn’t even look away when Keith catches him, because apparently full-blooded Galrans have evolved past shame.

Keith rolls his eyes, and disappears to his quarters. 

The looks and touches aren’t even exclusive to contained rooms. Every time Keith walks past Antok in the hallways, Antok makes a show of dragging his eyes along Keith’s body from the top of his head to his toes, with particular interest paid to where the suit clings to his stomach. Keith is no longer under any sort of illusion that Antok might want to... ahem, whip him around like a frisbee, for lack of a better term. If Antok was anything other than a decorated insurgent organizing against a millennia-old space empire, Keith might even say Antok is eyeing him like a rack of barbecue ribs. 

Keith’s face heats up, and he instantly knows that he’s about two more looks away from confronting him. He wonders how that would end—

No. No. No place for horniness here. This is a _serious_ mission. 

Kolivan is many things. 

He is an incorrigible badass, an unbelievably level-headed leader, the only life-form Keith has ever seen actually rock a long braid into middle age without looking like a greasy gas station clerk (seriously, Keith’s feeling _inspired_ by that).

And, two days later when Keith glances back over his shoulder as the Blades are leaving the briefing room to find Kolivan’s gaze low, most definitely fixed on his butt in the skintight suit, Keith figures out that Kolivan is an ass man. 

Keith would just assume that it’s because he’s a bit “exotic,” that the Galrans are simply struck by the novelty of a half-Galran, human-presenting fighter among them. But none of the other Blades look at Keith quite like Antok, Regris, and Kolivan do. If anything, much of the original hostility the Blades held for him has yet to fully dissipate. Outside of Regris and Antok he really only talks to Vrek. 

“Relax Keith,” Lance tells him when Keith video chats him a couple days later, “they probably just wanna spitroast you like a rotisserie chicken. No biggie.” 

“Why are you like this.” 

Keith doesn’t really concern himself with it after that. Looks are just looks, right? Keith’s been ogled before. 

A few more days pass, and they complete the first phase of their mission. They shouldn’t be on the base much longer now. The first leg of the assignment proves so draining that Kolivan doesn’t even call them to debrief immediately after they’ve finished, like he usually does. Keith gets to enjoy a shower with some intergalactic water pressure (which is just.... beyond words, let him tell you) and changes into a fresh suit (self-cleaning suits can only do so much). 

The debrief doesn’t take too long, but before Keith can turn to leave, Kolivan stops him.

“One moment, Keith,” he says as all of the other Blades, save Regris and Antok, exit the room. “We have an additional matter to discuss with you.”

Kolivan’s face is as unreadable as it always is, but Keith is immediately on high alert. Especially with the smirk Antok gives him from across the table. Kolivan waits for the door to whoosh closed before he speaks. 

“Your mixed ancestry calls your loyalty into question.”

Straight to the point. 

Keith feels himself getting annoyed.

“I did your stupid trials. The blade activated for me, you all saw that!”

Kolivan’s face is steady.

“Still,” he says, “our members require a living proof. So do we.”

Keith frowns, looks from Regris to Antok (who’s gotten rid of that smirk that turns Keith’s brain to partial mush), back to Kolivan. 

“‘A living proof’? And you’ve dismissed everybody else, how the fuck would they even—“

Kolivan gestures to the huge screen on the wall behind him, with something that almost looks like a smile on his face. 

Kolivan walks around the table, takes a few strides until he’s standing right in front of Keith and Keith has to bend his neck back ( _goddammit_ ) to look up at him.

Kolivan gives him an appraising look.

“You are quite lovely,” he notes, like it’s some sort of data point. Keith feels his face heat up in surprise.

“What exactly is this ‘living proof’?” Keith wants to know, eyes narrowing. 

“We would like to observe the strength of your Galran genes. Then we can put this thing to rest, do away with this friction.”

Keith clenches his jaw, looks to Regris and Antok again. It doesn’t look like any of them are about to offer him much more information. 

His stomach clenches in anxiety, but he doesn’t let that color his voice when he says,

“Whatever.”

In all honesty, Keith’s still trying to process the fact that a rebel faction leader just called him lovely when Kolivan wraps a big warm hand around the back of his neck and presses him to the table with the grip. Keith’s world spins a bit as he’s bent over, hands shooting out to catch himself. 

“Hey!” He says, “what the _fuck_ are you—“

Kolivan presses his thumb to the edge of Keith’s jaw, massages the soft spot just under his earlobe, and Keith feels his breath grow shaky. Keith’s fooled around before, been brought to orgasm by other people, but no one’s ever touched that spot. Shit, how the hell was _he_ supposed to know it’s apparently an erogenous zone for him? He feels himself growing hard in his suit as Kolivan presses into it deeper, massages it slowly. 

Regris and Antok walk over till they’re standing directly in front of him, across the table.

Antok’s grinning. “Let’s see just how Galra you are, sweetheart.” 

With his other hand, Kolivan presses the suit button at the top of Keith’s spine. It slits the whole thing along the middle of his back. 

“Hey! What the—“

Kolivan firms his grip on Keith’s neck and digs his thumb into that spot behind Keith’s ear. Keith’s breathing goes shaky again. 

Regris and Antok round the table without a word. Soon Keith can sense all three of them at his back. 

Rough but warm hands find their way under his suit, drag along the skin above his spine. They hold his suit open so his back is completely exposed. He feels a thumb pressing against his tailbone. Then pressing harder. 

“Fucking _ow_ ,” he yelps, as the thumb digs uncomfortably into his bone.

“Hush, sweetheart,” Regris murmurs, and soon he feels a hand carding through his hair, massaging his scalp. It feels... _really_ good. Fuck why does that feel so good??

He feels a sound stacking in his chest, something a bit too deep to be a moan. When he opens his mouth to let it out, it sounds kind of like a purr. 

“Oho,” Regris laughs, “I think we might be getting somewhere.”

Keith’s still irritated, though the thumb at his neck and the hand in his hair feel wonderful. Just as Keith is about to wonder aloud if Regris doesn’t have “somewhere” he can go to fuck himself, he feels it. 

He feels slick inside.

Like the inside of his ass is producing its own lubrication.

What the space-hopping _fuck_??? 

He tries to hold it in, tries to clench against the insistent rush of fluid (fucking _fluid_!) that he can feel flowing through his channel.

And it’s made all the worse when the thumb at his tailbone presses down harder. 

“Shit! _Shitshitshit_ —“

The suit is pulled down till it’s tucked under the curve of his ass. Two big hands grip his cheeks and spread them, and holding in the slick becomes a lost cause. He feels it trickling out of him as his hole is bared to the room. He bites down on a whimper as he feels it dribble out and start to wet his crease. They can see it! _Fuck_ , they can see it—

“It’s all right, darling,” Antok murmurs, “let us see.” 

Someone thumbs at his hole, the tip tracing his rim, smearing the slick along the delicate skin. He’s forced to let loose that whimper he’d kept in. It’s all so much. Yeah Keith’s done some stuff, but he’s never had anybody touch him there before. Never had anything up there. Just his own fingers. 

Kolivan makes an intrigued sound, and just a second later his thumb is pressing inside Keith. The entry is smooth, aided by how wet he is.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith groans.

“Definitely more Galra than expected,” Kolivan notes, voice low. His thumb sinks deeper, till Keith can feel the knuckles of his other fingers digging into the meat of his ass. Keith feels himself grow harder, dick hopelessly trapped inside his suit. 

“Though you’re much more responsive than our species tends to be, Keith.” 

Kolivan circles his thumb inside Keith, strokes along his walls. Keith bites his lip to keep from moaning, but can barely help it when he starts to press his ass back towards the man behind him.

“Quite submissive, though your general demeanor wouldn’t lead one to assume it.”

Keith wants to say something to that. But then Kolivan replaces his thumb with two thick fingers and Keith loses his protest to a moan. 

When Kolivan withdraws his fingers, it feels too soon. Keith expects a third (like, he has yet to actually see a Galra cock but deductive reasoning is telling him aaaall he needs to know about its size).

But Keith’s feeling the tapered head of a dick instead, nudging at his hole.

He squirms at the intrusion. Kolivan’s hand tightens on the back of his neck as he stretches Keith open on his huge cock, holy _shit_... Keith feels the firm ridges, absolutely relentless against the soft inner walls of his ass as Kolivan sinks into him. Holds Keith completely immobile against the table as he fucks him wide. 

“It’s too much,” Keith whines. 

Kolivan says nothing. Keith is completely caught off guard when Kolivan snaps his hips to push in the final few inches. Keith shouts. _Fuck_ he’s so goddamn full. 

“How… _tight_ ,” Kolivan grits out. 

Keith’s so distracted by the _alien dick inside his ass_ , he doesn’t even find the space to feel somewhat gratified by the vocal proof that stone-cold Kolivan is _aroused_.

The truth is that the stretch burns, the length spearing him much thicker and longer than his own fingers. Kolivan pulls back, only to shove himself forward quicker this time, bottoming out with a single audible _slap_ as Keith’s ass connects with the top of his thighs.

Keith whines again, and Kolivan rumbles in approval. It hurts, but in the way that a yellowed, healing bruise hurts when you prod it. In the way that makes you want to feel it over and over. 

“Let’s see if you have—” Kolivan starts, sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself. 

He massages the spot behind Keith’s ear again as he eases his cock out in a slow drag that makes it impossible for Keith to ignore the ridges dragging against his walls one after the other. He could probably fucking _count them_ , if he wasn’t so busy moaning at the hand around his neck and whimpering at the Galra cock splitting him open. The thing is, even though he’s still aching, the ridges turn his rim into a hungry, grasping thing. The constant stimulation to his entrance, and the cock stretching him towards his limit, are such a potent, confusing combination that he finds his heart beating harder and his eyes rolling back before he really knows what’s what.

Kolivan presses in quick, a powerful snap of his hips. And he must’ve changed the angle some because the tapered tip of his dick _barrels_ into Keith’s prostate this time.

“ _Nnngh_ fuck!”

Keith trembles, hips jerking and circling of their own accord. 

Kolivan _chuckles_. “So you do.”

Keith’s face heats up at that, but all he _really_ wants is for Kolivan to do it again. He notices through his growing mid-fuck haze that Kolivan has braced himself with a hand next to Keith’s balled-up fists. It dwarfs Keith’s, and the sight, the knowledge of _just_ how much bigger Kolivan is than him, makes his own cock leak where it’s trapped inside his suit. 

Kolivan starts in on a more consistent pace that has Keith scrabbling at the smooth surface of the table with damp palms. He’s being fucked with a capital F now, a big hand on his hip while Kolivan thrusts into him. Kolivan groans when he fucks in deep, when he’s pressed flush against the cheeks of Keith’s ass, and Keith lets loose this breathy moan he honestly _can’t_ believe is coming from him. And everything’s wet, paired with this vulgar _squelching_ sound as Keith’s hole drips more and more slick around Kolivan’s dick. Kolivan fucks some of it right back into him, cock undoubtedly drenched by now. Keith feels it trailing along his thighs to dampen his suit where it’s still clinging to his legs. It makes the slide easy and slick, till there’s no burn anymore. Only the delicious, relentless sensation of Kolivan driving his cock deep, deep inside him. Keith is moaning constantly now, too far gone to care what he must sound like. 

“There we go, kit,” Kolivan tells him, “let yourself enjoy it.”

Kolivan’s thrusts grow more vigorous, and Keith’s every breath feels like it’s being punched straight out of his chest. Kolivan grabs both of Keith’s hips and lifts them a bit, till Keith’s toes are barely brushing the ground and he’s able to look down the line of his body to see the form of Kolivan’s muscular thighs between his legs. His own cock has dampened the front of his suit so much he can see the wet patch it’s left.

“ _Oh fu—_ ” 

His eyes fall closed against the brutal fucking. His body has no idea how to fully process such wholesale domination, the feeling of being hauled back into every single one of Kolivan’s thrusts, till he’s fucking _mewling_. Plunge after plunge after punge of Kolivan’s thick cock sends that tip, sharp and precise as fingers, straight into his sweet spot. Keith thinks he’s gonna cum without a single hand on his dick. There’s no way he should be able to do that! There’s no reason for this additional heat to be whirlpooling at the bottom of his belly, for his mouth to be falling open, for these high, unfamiliar whines to be streaming from his own throat. 

But with a few more mighty thrusts, Kolivan’s bottoming out again. He holds himself there, and bends himself over Keith’s body to speak one single, growling command into his ear:

“Lose yourself for us, kit.”

And Keith is coming with a shout, being fucked so roughly through his orgasm that it feels like it’s simply building on itself, that it might never end. 

With something akin to a roar, Kolivan snaps his hips against Keith’s ass one final time and fills him with his own release.

Keith is in a daze as Kolivan pulls out, head impossibly light as he tries to catch his breath. He swallows hard, limbs still tingling, ass full of cum. He’s trying to figure out just how long it will take him to make it back to his room in his now-filthy suit if he _really_ books it when he feels a hand on his lower back. It’s stroking along the damp skin there. It’s so soothing, and Keith is so drained, that he doesn’t even jerk away like he probably would otherwise.

“You take cock like a dream, darling,” says Antok, dragging his fingers from Keith’s lower back to his stretched hole, still drooling Kolivan’s spend. Antok slips in two fingers right off the bat, scissors them apart. Keith whimpers, still sensitive.

“Here,” Antok says, removing his fingers to slide a hand under Keith’s body. He braces it against Keith’s stomach and directs him from the table to the floor. 

“Galra take pretty little things like you on their hands and knees,” Antok tells him. He arranges Keith so he’s kneeling, hands braced against the ground. The suit is hanging off of his shoulders now, sticky where Keith’s already come inside it once.

But Antok doesn’t seem overly concerned with that as he lines himself up and fucks into Keith’s wet channel in one smooth motion. He can’t even really tell if Antok’s any bigger or smaller than Kolivan. He just feels stuffed full again, almost too soon. His cock, impossibly, is beginning to rouse to attention. This… this shouldn’t be a thing, holy shit. And why’s he almost dooling at the thought of getting fucked a second time?

“ _Fuck!_ ”

That unfairly sexy laugh again.

“Does it ache, pretty thing?”

Keith hates how cocky he sounds, and even though the truth is _yes, yes it aches, i’m so sore_ , he finds himself spitting,

“No. Y-you’re smaller than Kolivan. Barely feel a thing.” Antok laughs.

Regris joins in with his own chuckle, and he sounds closer than Keith thought he was. There’s a hand in his hair, gripping the strands to direct his head. He looks up into the sly, sharp face of Regris, face a dark purple, teeth white and glinting. He’s pulled his own ridged cock free from his suit. There’s this lazy confidence about him, in the way he strokes his hard length, that makes Keith want to punch him in the face then suck his dick. 

This is territory Keith is familiar with. The weight of a cock on his tongue, the heady smell of a man as he fucks Keith’s mouth.

Keith gets his first good look at a Galra cock. Regris’s length is, unsurprisingly, big. It’s an even deeper purple than the rest of his body. It reminds Keith of those ribbed dildos he’s only ever seen in porn, though it’s flushed a deep red at the strangely pretty conical tip. It leaks a gorgeous pink fluid that appears to be more viscous than human pre-cum. Keith can tell by how it glides down the shaft too, slow as syrup. There are two round, heavy balls that Keith immediately wants to suckle.

Regris collects some of the pre-cum from the tip of his cock on two fingers, then brings them to Keith’s mouth.

“Open,” Regris commands. Keith doesn’t get a chance to put up even a token protest, because Antok pulls out and thrusts back into him. His mouth falls open at the shock, and Regris slips his fingers in. 

It’s saltier than human pre-cum, but has a much sweeter undercurrent that Keith can’t even begin to place. He’s so intrigued by it that he finds himself sucking Regris’s fingers, swirling his tongue around the tips to get more of the taste.

Regris smirks as he pulls his fingers free. His grip in Keith’s hair tightens as he brings his cock closer to his face. He smacks it lightly against Keith’s cheek before he brings it to his mouth. He presses in, and Keith moans at the taste that bursts across his tongue. Regris lets out a harsh breath as he presses in further, cock sliding in till Keith feels the tip at the back of his throat. Antok starts to fuck him, hard cock pumping into him, and he gags a bit before he manages to work through it. Regris groans at the feeling of Keith’s throat working helplessly around his tip. He starts to rock into Keith’s mouth while Keith does his best to look up at him, curious as to what his face looks like when he makes those sounds. Regris’s eyes are glowing bright yellow, and Keith has to wonder _is this what Kolivan looked like when he fucked me? Is this what Antok looks like now?_

Regris looks dangerous, every bit of the callous predator Keith had once believed all Galra to be. Except now, with Regris’s dick in his mouth, it’s the hottest fucking thing. Keith’s caught under that intense, near-menacing gaze, and it makes his cock harden.

Regris presses in and makes Keith gag again as Antok takes his ass.

Antok grips a cheek of his ass as he slams into him, and Keith feels his arch deepen. 

“You are _quite_ well-formed,” Antok tells him with a squeeze of the flesh he has in hand. Keith keens at the praise.

“What a sweet mouth,” Regris tells him as he starts to fuck into Keith’s mouth quicker 

now. Regris lets go of his cock and takes hold of Keith’s chin, thumb tracing the softness below his earlobe till he finds that spot again. He presses into it, and Keith’s whine is cut off by Regris’s cock shoving into his throat. It’s like they know his body better than he does.

“Just a bit more, lovely thing,” Regris coos, thumb massaging the spot. He eases in further and further, Keith turned pliant by both the stimulation to his newly discovered erogenous zone and the work of Antok’s hot, rigid cock fucking him even wetter.

Keith feels his throat stretching to accommodate Regris’s size. Every time Regris presses into that spot behind his ear the discomfort ebbs away. Ridge by ridge, Regris pushes his cock into Keith’s constricting throat till Keith’s nose is buried at the nearly-hairless base. 

Regris groans, readjusts his grip in Keith’s hair so it’s even tighter now.

“Will you give me your face, beautiful one?”

Keith does his best to look up, eyes bleary, breaths coming out jagged and labored as Regris keeps himself inside.

“Very good, kit.”

Having a cock shoved into every hole he has is a particular, soul-splintering brand of overwhelming. Keith thinks that it would be a bit less intense if Antok and Regris were simply using him like a fuck doll, something senseless and inaminate that men use to get off.

But they don’t.

Antok grips his hips and groans about how tight of a hole he has, how sweet and pretty it is, how it’s just _clinging_ him, how Keith’s cunt is the wettest, most addictive one he’s ever taken. He tells Keith how good he is as he fucks him brutally, as he smacks the cheeks of Keith’s ass and growls at how the flesh jiggles. He actually aims for Keith’s prostate, pauses to pull Keith’s suit down to his thighs so that he can get a big hand around Keith’s dripping cock.

Regris tells him how wonderful his throat is, how gorgeous of a face he has, how perfect his lips are, how he’s wanted to fuck his pretty mouth since he first saw Keith at the trials. He pulls his cock out a few times to smack it against Keith’s cheek, leaves the skin there wet with saliva and sticky with precum. Keith finds himself sticking his tongue out like he misses it, drooling for it. Licking at it desperately as Regris smirks down at him. He moans happily when Regris gives it back to him, stuffs Keith’s throat full of dick once more.

Antok circles his fingers around Keith’s cock and lets Keith fuck into his grasp as Antok pounds his ass. Keith thrusts back against him as best he can, mindless with pleasure. He slurps at the cock pumping in and out of his mouth, craves the sweet-salty taste. He thinks he screams around Regris’s length when Antok strokes him to completion, fucks him through his orgasm like Kolivan had. Antok cums inside him with an actual roar, and Regris’s growl is wild as he pulls free of Keith’s mouth and releases across his face. Keith opens his mouth, tongue out, as if on instinct. He moans as he manages to catch some of Regris’s delicious release.

But it doesn’t end there.

Kolivan takes him again, standing in front of the table this time. Keith is pulled completely free of his Marmora suit. Kolivan hooks his big hands behind Keith’s knees and hoists him up so they’re back to chest. They’re facing the big screen on the wall, and whatever one-way mirror technological fuckery has probably been going on up to this point has been exchanged in favor of the more typical two-way video chat style. 

Which means on the screen, Keith can see all of the other Blades.

Their hoods are down, and their cocks are pulled free of their suits. Kolivan holds Keith up like he weighs nothing, his legs spread open in a filthy, slutty display. Keith feels the Galra cum he’s taken, along with his own slick, dripping out of him. 

At the corner of the screen, he sees exactly what he and Kolivan look like in the self-view. He moans at the sight.

Kolivan is still mostly dressed. Keith feels the fabric of his suit against his naked back. Keith’s face is flushed, and his lips are a lurid red. His hair is messy and wild against his cheeks. He feels warmth bloom in his chest as Kolivan lands a kiss to the top of his head. His cock stands huge and proud just below Keith’s pink, puffy hole. 

“Show them, kit,” Kolivan tells him, “show them how wet you’ve gotten for us. Show them what we did to you.”

Keith’s spent cock twitches, and if he thought he was sore _before_ … his knees are screaming and his walls feel tender. But when Kolivan tells him to touch himself he does it without question. He presses two of his fingers past his swollen rim and pulls them apart. A filthy mix of cum and his own slick dribbles out of him. He watches as drops of it land squarely on the tip of Kolivan’s own cock. 

Keith had always assumed Galra were territorial, but Kolivan doesn’t seem to care at all that Antok’s cum has mingled into the release gushing out of Keith, just as Antok hadn’t minded fucking into Keith with Kolivan’s spend to slick the way. Kolivan spreads his legs wider, forces Keith’s knees nearly to his ears, and lowers Keith onto his cock. 

Keith bites his lip as he watches Kolivan’s giant cock disappear into him at the same time that he’s _feeling_ it. He knows that there’s no way Kolivan’s gotten any bigger, but his sensitivity makes Keith feel like he has. The Galra on screen stroke themselves, eyes glowing and hungry, as Kolivan drops Keith onto his cock.

“ _Nnnghm_ ,” Keith moans. 

Kolivan lifts him again. He stares down the line of his own body finally, watches in open mouthed shock as his cock stirs, as Kolivan thrusts up into him at the same time that he drops Keith bodily onto his length. He’s somehow managed to cum twice completely untouched. He doesn’t know why the thought of doing it a third time seems so unachievable to him.

His legs dangle uselessly as Kolivan fucks him just like that, bouncing Keith up and down his cock as his whim drives him to.

Keith feels Kolivan’s breath against his ear.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you kit?” he near-growls. Keith looks up at the screen, at the self-view.

There are two fuzzy purple ears sticking out past his hair. His face hasn’t changed, but light shades of lavender patch parts of his thighs, his legs, the skin right under his pecs. He gasps, but he barely has the space to be properly stunned.

Kolivan’s still fucking him, jouncing him on thick Galra cock as Keith moans, too gone to even manage the breathless _fucks_ and _oh my Gods_ from earlier. He sobs when Kolivan buries himself to the hilt, smashing into Keith’s prostate, and just _stays_ there. Keith’s cock is completely hard now, dribbling pre-cum. When he looks up at the screen the Galra are baring their teeth, stroking themselves faster. Some have already cum, their release sprayed across the front of their suits.

Just when Keith thinks he’s hit the ceiling for surprises today, Kolivan one-ups him.

Kolivan shifts his grip on Keith, so that his arms are hooked around the back of Keith’s knees instead of his hands. Kolivan clasps his hands and fits them to the back of Keith’s head. When Keith looks at the self-view all he sees is the lewd splay of his legs, _properly_ at his ears now. His hard, aching cock wetting itself with precum. The obscene stretch of Kolivan’s cock inside him, Keith’s slutty rim tugging longingly at the impressive length when Kolivan pulls out. 

He’s completely immobile like this.

“So limber,” Kolivan grunts. 

Keith watches his own cock in amazement as it twitches and leaks, forced to stare down the line of his body because Kolivan’s clasped hands have pushed his head down.

Kolivan slows down, pops his cock into Keith ridge by ridge this time. Keith’s toes curl as the delirious, stunned part of his brain somehow finds a way to count them, a feat that had proved impossible two fuckings ago.

 _One_ , lower, _two,_ lower, _three_ , lower and lower and _fuck_ … Keith loses count as his cock spurts for the third time tonight. He’s folded up like a pretzel, so he gets a face full of his own cum when he orgasms, even tastes a bit of it when his mouth falls open. 

Kolivan grunts as he fucks him roughly, with absolute abandon. Keith shouts as Kolivan pounds his wet, squelching ass, thighs slapping against Keith’s cheeks.

Both rooms, the one Keith’s in and the one he sees on screen, fill with the sounds of grunting and groaning as Kolivan buries himself inside Keith and cums with a groan of his own.

“Well done, Keith,” Kolivan tells him, his dick still spurting inside Keith’s ass. _How_ is he still able to cum this much??

“You might be as Galra as they come.”


End file.
